


Ancient Magic

by CheshireKitty



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Wings, Ancient History, Antisepticeye Sean McLoughlin, Children, Darkiplier Mark Fischbach, Friendship, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, Magic, Twins, Wings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 17:32:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15823656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheshireKitty/pseuds/CheshireKitty
Summary: Anti and Dark hate eachother. It is plain and simple, both want to rule and the other is standing in their way. But they say the most bitter of enemies were once the sweetest friends. Too bad neither can remember.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a small idea I came up with, originally I was going to write it as a comic but I'm terrible at drawing so this is a thing now. The idea was based off Anti and Dark by maskman626, who is an amazing artist by the way. Anyway, without further ado, here ya go.

Anti looked around in disdain, the void lived up to it's namesake, black and empty. How did he even get here? Why was he here? Oh yeah, some idiot thought they were better than him, he was here to prove them wrong.  
The sound of footsteps caught his attention, it echoed eerily around the empty space. Anti tightened the grip on his knife as he looked around for the source. The footsteps stopped and Anti almost didn't see the man standing five feet in front of him, his black tailored suit easily blended into the darkness, the only contrast being his pale ashen skin and the strange blue and red aura making him look like he had walked out of a cheap 3D movie.  
Anti grinned, "So you're Darkiplier then?"  
The man wore a bored expression, "That would make you Antisepticeye," his voice sounded as though he was somehow speaking over the top of himself, "I expected more."  
Anti growled, he could already tell this guy was full of himself.  
Darkiplier leaned forward resting on his cane, "Why are you here?"  
Anti straightened himself glitching slightly "because you think you're better than me."  
Darkiplier's lip quirked, "I don't think, I know."  
Anti quickly closed the gap between them, teeth clenched and knife at the ready, "don't underestimate me."  
Crimson eyes stared into his own, they held a playful glint, as if this whole thing was just a game to him. Yet Anti couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity.  
Pinching his brow Anti leaned back, where had he seen those eyes before?  
Darkiplier's look changed to one of confusion, "what just happened?"  
Anti tried to shake the feeling and give a witty remark but, "you know, you kinda remind me of someone."  
Dark studied the sudden change in deminor, "who?"  
Strange scenes and emotions flashed through Anti's brain, a pair of black wings, the feeling of freedom, a giddy happiness, a young boy, fire, fear, lonliness, those same bright eyes.  
Blinking as the images faded Anti frowned, "I can't remember."


	2. And so it began

Outside winter was in full force, an icy wind blew the falling snow into a blizzard, the full moon illuminated white barren trees against an inky black sky. Yet, inside was warm, small fires burned inside humble huts dotted across the plain, giving the valley an eerie glow.  
Inside one such hut a young woman was nursing her newborn children, twins, extreamly rare but not unheard of. The firstborn was strong and healthy, his loud cries were a sign of strength to come, the second had not uttered a sound, pale and thin he was not expected to survive the night.  
Hunched beside the bed sat an old woman in a long cloak, mixing herbs in a small bowl and chanting in a language forgotten to all but the village elders, as she chanted her cloak unfurled revealing it was in fact large grey wings. Seemingly satisfied the old woman sprinkled the herbs above the second baby, his nose twitched and he sneezed begining to cry. The old woman smiled placing her lips to his forehead, then moving around to do the same to his brother.  
It had come time to choose their names, the first, a gift from the stars, was named Jackson, his brother named by tradition, Anti-Jackson.

Higher on the hill a man stood watching over the barren landscape through his window, dark red wings cascading down his back. Behind him his wife and young child lay huddled by the fire, both wrapped in her own black wings. A spring baby, his youngest and first, Damien, was suffering through his first winter, his thinness not providing enough body heat to sleep by himself.  
Sighing the man fetched a blanket to place on top of the two people he loved most. Brushing a strand of curly black hair away from her face he pressed a kiss to his wife's cheek before laying down beside her falling into a deep sleep. 

~×•×~

Spring came and went, the years passed and the children grew. Damien watched the others play through the window absentmindedly scratching at the small wing buds on his back. He was forbidden from leaving, his mother said it was for his own good, his father said the other children would be scared of him, looking at himself in the window he wouldn't blame them. Bright crimson eyes peaked through curly black hair, he had the devil's eyes.

Anti-Jackson watched his brother play with the other children. They pushed him around and called him names, they said he was too little, that he shouldn't exist. So instead he stayed inside with his grandmother, she was more than glad to teach him all she knew from the old languages to forgotten magic. Still he wished he could play outside, but he was the second twin, the devil's child.

~×•×~

In time Anti-Jackson, or simply Anti as he'd asked to be called, grew steadily despite his small birth weight until he was the same size as the other children, yet they bullied him still. So he stayed inside learning what his grandmother taught. Over time something grew inside him, resentment, towards all those other kids, especially his brother.  
When their wings began to sprout they were the same shade of dark green and from a distance the two looked identical, though Anti argued they were nothing alike. While his brother played games outside Anti read old books on magic, while his brother spoke nonstop about his friends Anti practiced old languages, while his brother jumped out of trees to test his wings Anti learned exercises to strengthen his.   
When he found a spell to change his hair colour Anti pounced, he was going for a simple blonde but went wailing to his grandmother when his hair turned to grass.  
"Oh passerotto," she had chuckled, "you still have much to learn."  
Changing his hair back to it's natural dark brown she left a small tuft of green fringe.  
"As a reminder," she has said.  
"A reminder Gamma?" The little boy asked.  
"You will see."

Damien grew up isolated to the house on the hill. Though it was much larger than any other home in the village, to Damien it felt small and suffocating. This year alone he'd had eight tutors and every one of them had left, they'd also gone through five maids and two chefs, all of whom had dealt with one of Damien's temper tantrums. He didn't mean to get angry, it was just so frustrated being alone all the time.   
When his mother had days off she would stay home and teach him things, like reading and writing but also how to sew and how to properly care for his wings, ones that were the same inky black as hers.   
Sometimes his mom would bring patients home so she could treat them overnight, when that happened Damien got a rare glimpse into the world. Occasionally he would talk to the people if they were well enough, he would ask endless questions always curious to learn more, but mostly he just watched them, observing until he was ushered away.  
His father though was rarely home at all, always concerned with something to do with the village, the stupid village.  
Then the fateful day came when Mr and Mrs Dark were found dead in their family home under mysterious circumstances, all while their six year old son slept mere rooms away.   
Damien was crushed, of course he was now allowed outside, but at the largest cost. With his parents gone Damien was truely alone.

"I don't know why we have to go," Anti whined as his mother fixed his white shirt.  
"We're going because they were a very important family and they helped a lot of people," his father told him sternly.  
"Here," his mother draped a heavy black cloak over his shoulders, "it's cold out there."  
Anti pouted, he'd never even met the Darks so why did he have to go to their funeral.  
"Time to go my son," the woman smiled pulling on a matching cloak.  
Begrudgingly Anti followed his family as they made their way up the worn dirt path to the top of the northern mountain. The setting sun shone over the budding plants and highlighted the masses of people walking the same path up the mountain in total silence, all clad in black cloaks. It was both the eeriest and most amazing thing Anti had ever seen.  
Reaching the summit Anti spied the two bodies laid out on the smooth stone circle, their wings cradled their bodies like soft cushions. They looked so peaceful.  
The village elders kneeled at the head of the alter, hands pressed to the stone and heads bowed. Everyone else gathered around the base, cloaks pulled tight, some were looking at the ground while others were staring at the clear sky and quickly fading light. As the last rays of sunlight disappeared past the horizon the fire was struck and the circle was engrossed in blazing flames, and so the elders began their song, "May the gods of old, have mercy on your soul, as you pass into the undying lands."  
Everyone was now bowing their heads, some singing along with the elders, the others stood silent.  
"As they count the score, of troubles no more, as you pass into the undying lands."  
Anti watched the embers float into the dark sky, he was sure the gods would judge the Darks as pure of heart, they'd all be seeing some new stars soon.  
"With all our love, sent to the sky above, as you pass into the undying lands."  
At this point a lot of people were weeping, even Anti's own father. The young boy found this the strangest thing, his father never cried.  
"Those left behind, you're sure to find, when we pass into the undying lands."  
The elders rose up, arms above their heads, "rise and take your places among our ancestors."  
People moved forward to pay their respects or offer prayers, then began making their way back down the mountainside. Anti lingered back watching the fire light up the sky, he loved fire, but hated funerals, they always smelled bad. The assorted herbs that surrounded the bodies were never enough to cover the stench of burning flesh. Taking off his hood the wind whipped at his hair, thankfully it was blowing the other way so he could simply enjoy the flames.   
As the fire dimmed the last of the people disappeared, leaving only Anti and a boy without a cloak, instead having shimmering black wings draped over his body. The boy was standing so close to the fire Anti was sure he was getting burned, yet he didn't move at all, he simply stared at the burning stone.   
Anti moved forward curiously, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder, "let's go home passerotto," his grandmother smiled fondly.  
Anti nodded following the old woman, glancing back at the boy, he was staring straight at Anti with pearcing red eyes. The boys eyes looked so sad, and yet at the same time burned brighter then the flames before them, Anti was entranced. The boy looked away and the spell was broken. Anti quickly hurried after his grandmother who was waiting patiently for him.  
"Who was that boy gamma?" he asked.  
"That boy is someone who has lost much, but will gain much more in return," the old woman answered cryptically.  
"That isn't an answer," Anti pouted making his grandmother chuckle.  
"The two of you are very alike," she gave a knowing smile tapping her grandson on the nose, "remember that."   
Turning around she continued down the track without another word. Anti looked back up at the summit then down to his grandmother in confusion, shaking his head he hurried after the old woman.


End file.
